


Parting Words

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [40]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:39:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joyce confronts Giles on the eve of his departure for England</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parting Words

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the events of Ignorance is Bliss and during the episode Tabula Rasa. 
> 
> Written by Sadbhyl, beta'd by Mydeira

Giles packed away the last of the books he had retrieved from the Magic Box, then stood back to evaluate his situation.

“So, you’re really going to do it,” a voice came from behind him.

He turned to see Joyce standing in the open doorway, arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Ignoring the emotional clench at her presence, he turned back to his examination of the boxes. “It’s about time, don’t you think?”

She stepped further into the room, moving off to his right to stand near the kitchen pass through. “I’m just surprised it’s taken this long.”

The coldness of her tone cut through him. “Well, the movers come in the morning to crate everything up, and I’ll be on my flight by dinnertime. I can’t move more quickly than that.”

“You could have. You’ve certainly made no secret of being unhappy here.”

“I’m sorry, Joyce,” he snapped tiredly, “but since Buffy doesn’t need me and you don’t want me, I see no reason for me to stay any longer.”

That only seemed to anger her further. “How would you know what I want? You’ve barely spoken to me for months!”

“Which is rather the point, isn’t it?” His own frustration rose to the surface despite his attempts to restrain it. “If you were so concerned about me leaving, you might have shown it before now.”

“Oh, no, you don’t!” She pressed forward into his face, enraged. “Don’t you turn this back on me! I’m not the one running out!”

“No, but you haven’t really been present, either, have you? Not since the spring.”

“You son of a bitch.” She swung a brutal slap at his face, but he caught her wrist handily. That did nothing to allay her anger. “My daughter was dead! What did you expect me to do?”

He didn’t release her hand, and her struggles to free herself only brought her closer against his body. It had been too long, and whatever his heart and head may be saying, his body still recognized her as mate and responded accordingly. He somehow managed to keep the rush of desire out of his voice. “Buffy’s been back for months, Joyce. What’s your excuse now?”

She seemed to be responding to their proximity as well. She hesitated, her struggles slowing, her voice breathless when she finally replied uncertainly, “You aren’t the only one to feel unwanted.”

“Is that what you think?” Giles pivoted with her, backing her up slowly until he had her pinned against the wall by the foot of the stairs. “Do you really think after everything we’ve been through in the last two years, I would simply stop wanting you?” He indulged in the soft crush of her body, trying to hold onto his anger.

He felt her heart accelerate, and she groaned softly as she instinctively moved against him. “Oh god, Rupert!”

His control snapped and he kissed her, hungry and hard, demanding her surrender. She submitted willingly with a soft whimper that made him even harder. He reveled in the soft curve of her stomach against his cock even through all the layers of clothing as he plundered her open mouth like the starving man that he was. There was no finesse to it, but she didn’t seem to mind, one hand tangled in his hair while the other impatiently jerked the back of his shirt out of his pants.

He reached between them to release the catch on her slacks, allowing them to fall to the floor as he lifted her up and out of them, never breaking the intimate contact of their lips.

“Do you still have a bed?” she murmured, wrapping her long legs familiarly around his hips.

He chuckled despite his fervor. “Yes, I still have a bed.”

“Then take me to it.”

Her words may have been intended as a command, but they came out more as a lost plea, touching Giles through the passion. “I will,” he promised against her lips, already turning to climb the stairs.

The bed was bare of all but sheets and pillows, the rest packed up into the boxes that littered the room. He ignored all of it as he moved deliberately to the bed, his hand between them quickly undoing the buttons of her blouse as he set her down on the mattress. She shrugged out of it and reached for his belt as he tore through the buttons of his own shirt, tossing it aside just as she dropped his trousers.

They froze for an instant, half dressed and a moment away from no return, each uncertain of the other in a way they never had been before. And then with deliberate purpose, Joyce hooked her fingers into the waistband of his shorts and pulled them down over his thighs, leaning forward to place moist kisses across his stomach as his bare cock stroked against her breasts, breaking him free of the awkward moment and driving him to action.

There were so many things he wanted to do for her, so many ways he wanted to worship her, but his need for her was just too great. He slipped her panties off while she popped the clasp on her bra, baring her breasts to his hungry gaze as he moved back up her body, settling in the familiar plush of her thighs. For a moment he worried he was going too fast, but her legs enfolded him to draw him close, and he realized he might not be moving fast enough.

He cried out at the feel of her flesh giving way before the slow penetration of his shaft, warm and welcoming. In three long strokes he was buried deep in her, and he stopped to just hold her, joined together for the first time in far too long. She seemed to understand and held him closer, kissing gently along his temple and forehead, murmuring soft incoherencies until he could stay still no longer.

The first stroke made her gasp, each successive thrust wringing a chorus of sound from her throat. She moved in time with him, her soft breasts compacting against his chest as they came together. He wanted to bend his neck and attend to them, tonguing and sucking on her nipples the way he knew she liked. But he couldn’t bring himself to break away from the dance of their mouths, as intimate as the joining of their bodies. So instead he lavished attention on her succulent mouth, drawing whimpers of ecstasy from her that he swallowed eagerly, echoing them back at her as she lifted her hips, changing the angle of penetration to squeeze even tighter along his length with each thrust. She grinned against his mouth, obviously pleased by his reaction, and began arching faster and faster against him. He matched her pace, the friction quickly becoming irresistible.

He wanted to pour words into her ear, of passion, of desire, of devotion. But he didn’t dare for fear he would speak wrongly and destroy their tenuous peace. So he let his body speak for him, pouring every ounce of feeling he had into her with each stroke.

She clutched at his arms, pulling her mouth away for breath as her lungs bellowed in anticipation of her orgasm. He clutched her head, wanting to see her face as she came. She was so beautiful, her face twisted with ecstasy, her lips red and full from his onslaught. He barely had time to complete his final thrust as she exploded, her body bucking uncontrollably against him. The sudden, fierce clenching around his cock, jerking against him as she spasmed, and the keening curses resounding from her lips finally undid him and he came with a desperate roar, driving into her hard enough to pin her quaking hips to the bed.

They lay there, gasping and entwined, for long minutes afterwards, neither wanting to break the connection. But physiognomy was against them, so when Giles softened too far to remain inside her, he slipped out and gathered her into his arms, rolling onto his back to hold her against his chest. They lay like that quietly, he caressing her hair rhythmically while she coasted her fingertips aimlessly over the plains of his chest.

It took him a while to realize the moisture against his chest under her cheek wasn’t perspiration. “Hey,” he said softly, lifting her chin, “what’s this now?”

She wiped her eyes quickly. “It’s nothing.”

“Joyce,” he said mildly, “you are a strong woman. You don’t cry over nothing. Now tell me.”

She laid back down, resting her cheek on his chest and effectively hiding her face from him. “You’re leaving tomorrow,” she said sadly.

He kissed the top of her head. “That’s easily remedied.”

“It is?” She looked up at him in surprise.

“Just ask.”

“But, the movers, and the plane tickets . . .”

“Can all go hang.” He turned her over in his arms so she was laying across his chest, unable to hide from him any longer. “I never wanted to go. There just didn’t seem to be any reason to stay. Ask me and I will.”

She studied his face with a haunted hunger that surprised him. Finally, quietly, uncertainly, she said, “Stay. I need you to stay. I don’t know what I would do if you left me.”

He drew her closer, caressing her lips softly with his own. “Then I’ll stay. That’s all I ever needed to hear.”


End file.
